Fall of Cocytus
by mobius20
Summary: The end of the Great War


Fall of Cocytus  
  
It is day, but for the waging factions it has been night for over four millennia. Yet, like all things, the war must end. It will end in victory or defeat, one will kill the other or each will perish while attempting this feat that has for eons evaded them. One faction, Core, represents the belief that thought is all that encompasses life, so they had mandated that its populous transfer their consciousness into machines. The other faction, Arm, believes that life is precious, that it is more than thought, that is to be cherished and protected at all costs. This difference in idea has almost destroyed their once great civilizations. All that remain for each party are a small army and a disheveled culture hiding in the ruins of once massive metropolises. Standing so near the brink of victory he could taste it Captain Emmanuel contemplated the next maneuver he should make. His vehicular army of tank columns numbered two score plus five. Capable of decimating most forces his choice in tank was keen. From the factories built in Sector 431:64 he had chosen, twenty Bulldog class heavy tanks, fifteen Panther lightning tanks, and ten medium tanks rightfully named Stumpy. The division had no air protection so therefore he had a dozen Apollo stealth fighters on call. At the crossroads of decision, he had two strategical paths to choose from. On the one hand, he could go northeast and make an advance on a column of enemy Core tanks moving south. On the other hand he could go west and explore unknown territory. Since he wasn't a man who enjoyed the unknown, he headed northeast. The metallic ground made it difficult to make an advance without being spotted, so Emmanuel planned to use the natural hills and rises as cover. "Forward!" Emmanuel cried. The massive, megalithic tanks surged forward. Static tactics were Emmanuel's cup of tea if you will. He thrived on pinning his opponents into a corner and shelling them with artillery. The traps he set were no less than brilliant. Not even the Core's most gifted strategists could match wits with him in Emmanuel's area of expertise. Inside his own specialized vehicle from which he coordinated his attacks without getting into battle was equipped with every sensory device the Arm military possessed. The longest-range radar, the most powerful radar jamming screen, and the most sensitive sound magnification system were only a few of the high-tech devices aboard. Sitting around a crude map of the area was Emmanuel; Commander Jefferson, the highest ranking officer other than Emmanuel; and Lieutenant Anders, Emmanuel's confidant. "Our course of action is blatant," Jefferson boasted, he was the chauvinistic one, he truly believed he was always correct. "We must ascend these elevations, and use the height advantage to shell the opposition." "But if they have air support, and we have reason to suspect that they do, once we were on the top, the bombers will be able to make precision strikes on our position." Anders rebutted, he was the arguable one, with every comment that was remotely controversial, and he voiced his opinion about the subject. "Interesting suggestion Jefferson, but Anders is correct, the danger of being attacked by air is far to great." Emmanuel didn't always agree with Anders or Jefferson, he usually ignored their rants and used his command to get his way. Anders and Jefferson were partly for entertainment and partly to give Emmanuel insight on happenings that he may remain ignorant without them. "We will use the rises as protection and move along its base until we get to the opening. That is where the column of Core tanks will emerge and that is where we will set our trap." "Ok then, what do you desire master." Jefferson spoke with a sarcastic inflection. Ignoring Jefferson's comment "The Panthers will make an assault on the front of the column pushing it into a line. Then the Bulldogs will swing around on either side of the compressed column and force them to go into the Hundean defensive position. Once into that circular position, the Stumpies will squeeze into the weak point and collapse the entire setup. By then the column will be defeated." "Which formation would you like us to follow until we reach the opening?" Anders inquired with a hint of futility in his voice. "We'll remain in our current formation." Emmanuel answered.  
  
The airfield in which the Apollos, on call with Emmanuel's order, was located forty miles away from the factories. Hidden within a basin, it would be quite difficult to locate and siege. Four plants, all bearing the Arm insignia supplied the aircraft for the airfield. Because of the ability to produce jets rapidly, on site meant that only the nine Apollos and a single squad of Phoenix bombers would be active. But if the battle heated up or there were any losses, the plants simply created a replacement. However, the Arm still needed pilots for its jets. Without a pilot, an Arm jet was just a pile of useless metal. However, the airfield had over two hundred pilots in its bunkers. All of them were trained either for reconnaissance, bombing runs, or intercepting other aircraft. The most difficult of those positions was by far the intercepting; they piloted the fighter jets. Only thirty pilots there were capable of flying the fighters. The fighter pilots required lightning reflexes to handle the top speeds. To the surprise of the pilots most of the fighter pilots were females. Females seemed to test higher in the simulations and seemed to find a target quicker than the males testing the same area. That was what the military leaders used as their excuse to bring more female pilots in, but the male pilots knew that the simulations were too far from reality to be effective in judging flying ability. The split was not far from even; sixteen females out numbered the fourteen males only by two. The nine on active duty for the Apollo fighters were all well experienced pilots. Lieutenant Deisser was the oldest at forty-two. He was one of the few active ace pilots in the Arm Air Force. Grayness had already begun to color his balding head giving him the appearance of an older man. Major Ulysses ranked the highest of all the active fighter pilots, and he showed his superiority by giving commands every time the sun was in the sky. Private Morris, Private Swanson, and Private Ham were the youngest of the nine pilots. Cumulatively, they had a single year of flying experience. Their eagerness to fly was a hazard; they would make stupid mistakes that might get them killed. Normally, their eagerness died with them or when they saw a friend go down in a ball of flames. The remaining four were the women that were selected. Sergeant Major Garrison was the cheeriest person you would meet. She wasn't too apt at intercepting enemy aircraft but she was excellent at laying down cover fire for her fellow pilots. Private Smith was an excellent all around pilot, she could handle any mission handed to her. But her appearance kept her from the status of ace. She was at best mediocre looking. Still, after millennia of conflict, the military remained sexually biased. Corporal Stern had a pleasing attitude, but is difficult to get along with. The last active pilot is Private Henson. She has the least experience in flying out of all active pilots, only a single month. But she learns quickly. The Apollo was the fastest jet in the sky. Capable of reaching flight speeds of up to two hundred meters per second and dive speeds of three hundred meters per second, it easily out ran the fastest Core fighter. With two anti-air missiles and a coaxial laser turret it was well armed. But it lacked heavy armor. It only took a trio of anti-air missiles to bring this jet to the ground. This jet was built around offense. The designers figured that the high speed and powerful weapons array would be a better asset than the heavier armor. In the mess hall, the active pilots sat near the exit. This was so they could leave without haste if Captain Emmanuel called them to duty. When Jennifer Stern sat at the table with her congealed lunch, as the lunches always were, Major Ulysses proceeded to make attempts at seducing her. "Hey, cutie." He said in a flirtatious manner. "Why don't we go to my room and engage in some extra-curricular activities." "Fuck off, asswipe." Jennifer said calmly. She was accustomed to his come- ons. "Getting spunky, aren't we?" Jennifer knew there was no stopping him, so she picked her lunch up and moved further down the table. "She wants me." The Major said, assured of himself. "Yeah." Deisser replied sarcastically. "She really wants to get in your pants." He took a bite out of his burger. "Ya, know." He spoke without chewing or swallowing first, "Why don't you just quit bothering her?" "Because it's too much fun." Ulysses replied glibly. "You're a real diehard Major." Deisser commented as he swallowed the now chewed food in his mouth.  
  
"ATTENTION ON DECK!" An officer barked as Admiral Nills stepped onto the deck of the Neptune 85 a large super-cruiser. An extremely long-range heavy plasma cannon was its primary weapon; it also had an advanced torpedo launcher for fending off submarine attacks. Admiral Nills commanded this majestic vessel as well as the other five ships in his fleet. Two Millennium battleships, two Archer anti-air ships, and one Pike submarine were what consisted his fleet. "I am not much into talking so I will keep it brief. I am the highest- ranking officer in this fleet and that means I will give the orders. And when I give an order I expect it to be followed without question. Do you understand?" The Admiral conveyed a strong sense of power when he spoke. "YES, SIR!" The voice of every crewmember rang through the air. The hot midday sun was glaring bright in the clear sky. The oily liquid through which their vessels were propelled was similar to crude oil, but it was diaphanous, opposing the opaqueness of crude oil. Despite the change, it was still detrimental to the body and often caused death if it was assimilated into the body. "We will move the fleet to a location further north. There we will wait for the orders from high command to move out." He paced back and forth in front of the line of sailors as he spoke. "Operation Iron Fist will be executed on their command. There is no turning back now gentlemen."  
  
Emmanuel positioned his tanks at the opening of the steel ravine. "Sir, the column of enemy tanks is still approaching." A scout reported to him via intercom. Excellent, the opposition remained oblivious to his ventures. "All tanks follow battle plan directives." Emmanuel communicated to his forces on the intercom. The moments grew tense by the second. Waiting was arguably the hardest part of battle. It was when your nerves would be tested to the greatest degree. With the knowledge that you may die, your body wants to run away. It is only your sense of duty that holds you to your post. The column exited the opening. Immediately, the Panthers rushed the column, with their missiles and lightning guns firing. The column collapsed into two rows. "Just like clockwork. The Core have used the same battle tactics for centuries but no one pays any attention to it." Emmanuel remarked about the happenings. The volley of plasma fire began, the roar on the battlefield was deafening. The Panthers stopped and held their position. The maneuvers were conducted so well that it seemed that all of the tanks were of one mind. The Bulldogs rushed the rear of the enemy lines and with a single volley annihilated several of the lighter class tanks. Just as Emmanuel predicted, the enemy tanks went into the Hundean defense. Now he had them. The Stumpies punched into the weakening left flank and fired their plasma cannons with pinpoint accuracy. In tandem with the Panthers and Bulldogs, the column was defeated in less than two minutes, and only suffering three losses. All of them were Panther tanks in the initial rush. The surviving tanks maneuvered around the mass of shredded metal. Smiling, Emmanuel bathed in the light of his small victory. To his eyes, there was no carnage in war. To Emmanuel, war was only a game of chess were his forces were all pawns, used as a line of defense to protect the king, and he was the king. Since pawns are easily sacrificed, he paid no never mind to the men he lost, after all, they were only pawns. "Good work men. Assemble in formation and we will proceed further north, to aid in the defense of a base that will be formed upon our arrival." He killed the communication. Emmanuel sat in silence as he reminisced. He was reminded of his attacks on Rougpelt, Barathrum, and Tergiverse IV. All of them ended in victory. The Core would fall before the Arm, he thought to himself.  
  
"Emily!" Paul Ham shouted while running and waving to grab her attention.  
  
Emily turned around and saw Paul running towards her with something in his hand. 'That must be for me.' She thought. Paul slowed as he neared Emily. He handed her the object in his hand, "This came for you." It was an electronic letter. The small device looked a piece of flat steel about the size of his hand. "Must be from my parents." Emily said as she accepted the mechanism. "They probably wanted to check up on me." She activated the device and read the contents that appeared on its screen. "Yep." She said when she finished. "What?" Paul questioned. "I was right, my parents wanted to check up on me. They still think I'm a little baby." Emily replied with a little disgust in her voice that was directed to her parents. "Some people just don't know when to let go." "You're telling me. Come on now, I'm nineteen for God's sake!" "Well you are still somewhat a kid." "Yeah, right! I'm only two years younger than you!" Emily paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that." "I thought you were going to bite my head off there." Paul said in relief. Emily chuckled. "Thanks for bringing me this." She motioned at the electronic letter. "No problem." He waved and walked away. Muttering to himself, "I know women are moody but she must have had three mood swings in less than a minute there."  
  
"Forces in sector 631.89 lost to Arm tank column. Repositioning Satellite 145 over that sector to begin scan for Arm base."  
  
The battle has begun. The Arm has a foothold on Core Prime, Core's home- planet. The tension grows for either side. For one, the best chance they have had in over four thousand years must not be spoiled, for the other; they must give a final stand and fend off the hordes of attackers. Neither can afford a mistake, neither can leave a contingency overlooked, neither can lose to the other, but one must lose, it is inevitable, and nothing can stop the inevitable. The inevitable, like time, will come.  
  
"Kansas, this is Dorothy. Indians on the warpath. Bravo Tango Gamma." Gunnery Sergeant Darren killed the quick communications to ensure the Core will not discover the position of the Arm base. He picked up a communication headset and quickly punched in a frequency number. The other end of the line came to life. Since he was talking on a closed frequency he didn't have to use code. "Sir, Core forces are mounting in sector 543.65." "From what source?" The man on the other end was requesting were the transmittion originated from. "Starship Gemini." "Very well." Quickly the communication ended.  
  
"Attention, flight crews man their aircraft. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. Orders for your attack runs are in your cockpits." The voice on the loud speakers repeated itself several times. The pilots ran for their aircraft. The entire airbase seemed to explode with mayhem. The aircraft were pulled from their hangers and the pilots jumped inside and quickly took off. The bombers were released first, then the fighters. In just two minutes, thirty-nine jets were scrambled and rocketing to the destination. "Ok boys," said the wing commander. Which was Major Ulysses. "The target is a massing Core attack near the newly constructed base. Bombers are to fly in V-wing formation and release their payloads on my signal and come back around for another pass then straight back to the airbase. Fighters are to fly in figure eights and are only to engage enemy aircraft that may be encountered. When we reach the battlefield all craft engage full throttle." The Phoenix bombers formed into six V shapes. The Apollo fighters flew to the sides of those wings.  
  
"Captain Emmanuel, sir," A voice popped onto the intercom. "There is a Core resistance mounting in sector 543.65. Your forces are to move out and destroy them on orders from high command." "I'm on my way." Emmanuel replied drolly, he hated taking an order from a subordinate, even if it came from someone of higher rank. He raised his tanks on the intercom, "We have another battle on our hands." The column of tanks moved out.  
  
The nearby base coordinated the airstrike and ground assault. The airstrike was to hit a few minutes before the ground forces would reach the battlefield. The idea of the airstrike was to cause confusion by creating wreckage. In the shallow canyon wreckage would block much of the path and the ground force would just use artillery fire to destroy the remainder of the units. Flying under radio silence, the bombers and fighters streaked towards their destination. On the horizon, the canyon the Core offensive would be in appeared. They altered course so they could fly right over the canyon parallel to the walls. The army ahead of them had no anti-air defenses. "Fighters, stay on the lookout for enemy aircraft." Ulysses said breaking the radio silence. It didn't matter much anymore, the Core units knew they were there, the aircraft were in plain sight. "Twelve bogies at ten o'clock." Private Swanson reported. "Break off and engage." Ulysses commanded. The nine Apollo fighters accelerated to attack speed and engaged the enemy aircraft. The bombers stayed on course and unloaded their payloads onto the helpless Core units below. The thirty Phoenix's unleashed a hell upon the Core units and remained unharmed. The hundreds of bombs exploded as they struck the steel ground sending fire and shrapnel flying through the canyon. Defenseless, the Core units attempted to run for cover but most of them were either greeted by a throng of bombs, others ran into wreckage or the canyon walls vainly trying to seek shelter from the rain of death. The Phoenix bombers kept their headings to swing around for another pass. It took the onboard nanolathes twenty seconds to create another payload of bombs. "Aircraft identified, twelve Avenger fighters. This will be like shooting fish in a barrel." Major Ulysses said assuredly. He knew that a single one of his Apollo fighters could take out at least three Avengers, and these odds weren't that bad, three Apollo's to every four Avengers. Easy pickings. "Pick your target and blast him out of the sky." Private Swanson pulled up into a steep climb, trying to pull a Core fighter with him. Checking his scanners he found that two Avengers had followed him. "Come and get me." He said to himself as if he was taunting the Avengers. He sent his fighter into a barrel roll, and then using the Avengers slower turn rate, he yanked the controls downward and went into a tight circle. The Avengers did the same, but by the time the enemy fighters were pulling down he was under them. Quickly he fired off the two missiles. The missiles slammed into the underside of one Avenger sending it plummeting to the ground where it exploded. The nanosystems on the Apollo were advanced and were able to produce a new set of missiles in eight seconds. Swanson's HUD showed that the missiles had reloaded. He had been evading the Avenger with ease. He sent his aircraft into the canyons and was able to maneuver the Apollo through the winding crevices. The Avenger stayed above the surface because it would insane for it to follow him through the steel maze below. Timing his attack, Swanson waited for the moment when the Avenger was right above him. He pushed the craft upwards, accelerated, and came up right underneath the Avenger, fired his missiles and blew two gaping holes in the jets wings. The Avenger was severely damaged and quickly lost altitude and soon impacted into the steel surface of the planet. Emily had the final Avenger in her sights. It was damaged by something, probably a missile impact that just missed it. Raged metal edges marred the rear of the left wing of the Avenger. Despite the crafts' disability, Emily had difficulty finishing it off. The Avenger was so slow compared to the Apollo, she had hardly any firing time when she got behind the jet. She went for another pass behind it, pulled the trigger, the missiles made contact with the Avengers engines. The aircraft was sent tumbling through the air. The energy supplies must have ruptured on the craft, because it detonated in midair, sending violent shockwaves in every direction. Emily had missed the order to return back to base, the other fighters were already heading back to the airbase. She quickly caught up to them and joined them in formation. "About time you join us Private." The Major scolded her inattention. "Sorry, sir." The Phoenix bombers swung around again and unleashed their bombs onto the weakened Core regiments for a final time. The wail of the hundreds of bombs cutting the air would be horrific, but the things below could not hear. The aircraft returned to the airbase untouched. Air supremacy was key to winning any war, and the Arm definitely controlled the skies. However, the ground war was a completely different story. The Core had the Krogoth. The ultimate killing machine, but the gargantuan robots remained elusive from the Arm's attempts at scanning the area. The Arm high commanders agreed that all four of the active Krogoths were hiding in a secluded area, but why the Krogoth's would hide from scan and not fight in the battles left the strategists and tacticians puzzled. It was theorized that all four Krogoths were being hidden until the final stand. This was a great risk, if the Arm would be able to build enough forces to destroy all four of the Krogoths the Core would be stupid to have kept them secluded. However, if the Core knew that the Arm had the Gemini in orbit, keeping the Krogoths concealed would prove intelligent. Because the Gemini could easily spot a Krogoth from orbit and once spotted they would fire the positron cannon on a low power output and destroy the Krogoth and the units around it. The fact that the Core kept the Krogoths in a clandestine area, nullified the positron cannon because even on its lowest power setting, it would wipe out five hundred thousand square miles, and the Arm would not take the risk of killing its own people. It was this ilk that kept the other side off balance. It was the exchange in strategic volleys that had kept these two factions warring against each other. Neither could gain an advantage that lasted long before the other stole it or countered with an equally strong advantage that canceled out the others. They fell into a downward spiral of destruction that would only end with the annihilation of one faction or the perishing of both.  
  
Nightfall. The night crews assume control. Rarely attacks are conducted at night, the greater expense is something neither side can sacrifice, but night crews still patrol the area. The hours between the day crews come off their posts and when the lights out is called has been designated happy hour for the lucky few who are fortunate enough to be able to have a women. Since the men vastly out number the women, overall, and numerous relationships have emerged from the nefariousness of war the "pickings" are small. Though "happy hour" lives on. There is a ritual about it.  
  
The fighter pilots were a closely-knit community, when one went down with their aircraft, the rest threw a party in their name. Often, the closeness of their community led to serious relationships. Some of them were permanent, others were just one night stands. Paul stood and pulled his pants back up to his waist and fastened them. Emily closed her open nightgown. Walking over to Paul Emily said smiling, "You were great." She placed her hands around his neck, leaned forward and kissed him. He reciprocated the action. They separated after a few moments. Emily slid her hands down Paul's arm and onto his waist. She looked into his dark brown eyes. "I love you." "I love you too, but if you don't let me go I'm going to piss my pants." Paul said frankly. Emily let go, "You sure do know how to ruin a mood." She said half seriously and half jokingly. "Well, I had to piss." He said as he walked into the bathroom. Emily sat down on the bed. A moment later she heard tinkling from the bathroom. "Oh, my. That's better than sex." Paul commented. "Hey!" Emily said sharply though she knew he wasn't serious. Coming out of the bathroom Paul said, "I'm going to get something to eat, you want anything?" He asked as he put his shirt and shoes back on. "A life outside this goddamned hellhole would be nice." Emily said falling backwards onto the bed. "The mess hall don't have any of those, but they do have those little powder covered doughnuts you like." "Just bring a twelve-pack then." "Sure thing." He left and shut the door behind him. Emily's rolled onto her stomach and supported her head on her hands. This war was beginning to get to her. She never thought she was capable of hurting anyone before she was drafted into the Arm Air Force, but now she had to kill to survive. Although the Core people weren't really alive since they were machines now, she still had a hard time pulling the trigger, because the thing she was aiming at, at one time was a living being. A rumor had begun to circulate that the Core would be defeated within a week. To Emily it was all lies, she didn't believe anything until she saw it herself. Somehow her thoughts drifted to Paul, and her spirits started to rise. God, she loved him so much. If the rumors were true and the Core would be destroyed within a week, she just might get a marriage proposal in the next two weeks. That thought made her spirits sail. She was in state of euphoria, when she began to see images in her head. The first was a quick glimpse of a burning plane. It startled her but soon she was feeling her euphoria. Then another image flashed, but this time, she could not shake it out of her head. The deadly scene played out before her eyes. The same burning airplane was falling out of control the pilot was desperately trying to eject his seat but it refused to budge. His frightful ramblings were muffled by the roar of the amber flames jetting out the rear of the craft. Now she was looking in the cockpit at him, the vision blurred and she could not make out his face, but it began to clear. She was squeezing her eyes shut trying to shield herself from realizing who it was in that cockpit. Her fists were clenched so hard that her knuckles were turning white and her nails were digging into her palms. Violently she was punching the bed and kicking the air as if fending off an unseen attacker. The vision became clearer and clearer as the craft approached the ground. His ramblings merged into a single bone-chilling shriek. Now all was silent, clarity was still fuzzy, his mouth was contorted in fear but now sound emerged from it. Then the vision cleared like someone wiping away years of dirt off of an old mirror. She clearly saw his face, Paul, plummeting to a fiery grave. BOOM. Just then she shot straight into a sitting position. Her long blonde hair was drenched in sticky sweat. Her entire body was shaking. She pulled covers around her but it didn't help. Standing up, she quickly walked into the bathroom. Staring into the mirror above the sink, she saw an image that was unfamiliar. It was herself looking back at her but her entire face was stricken with horror, her eyes appeared sunken, her check bones seemed higher and pointier. Sweat was caked on her skin. She needed a shower. She took off her nightgown, since it was the only piece of clothing she had on, and entered the shower. She set the water to a hot and powerful spray, and she just let the water beat on the back of her neck. She could not block the vision from her mind, as much as she tried, she could not hide it. She wiped the sweat from her body and washed it out of her hair. She stepped out of the shower and dried off. The vision still occupied her mind. She desperately needed the beer Paul was getting. Maybe alcohol would dull the image. A few minutes later, Paul returned. He placed the beer on the stand to the left of the door. "Emily. I'm back." He didn't see or hear anything. The bathroom door opened and Emily slowly walked out of the steam filled room. She had an exhausted look on her face. "You look like you saw a ghost or something." Emily looked into Paul's eyes, and she felt like she was going to cry. The vision was still fresh in her mind and the sight of Paul amplified her mental anguish. Biting her lower lip to hold back her tears she ran towards Paul and plunged herself into his chest and hugged him tightly. Not ready for her lunge, Paul was nearly knocked over. Realizing her distress, Paul held her and stroked her dampened hair. On the brink of tears Emily said with a wavering voice, "I don't want leave you again." "It's ok, baby. I'm here." Paul consoled her until she released him. "Are we ok now?" Paul said soothingly as he placed his hand gently under her chin. Emily nodded her head. She walked the short distance to the bed and sat on the edge. Paul followed and sat next to her. "What was that all about?" Paul asked. Emily told him about the vision she had and the torment she felt. Stunned Paul said, "And you think that was a foresight into the future?" He was skeptical about psychic abilities. "I'm positive it was." A cold silence fell over the room. "There was something I've never told anybody, not even my parents." She was looking at her hands in her lap. Her hands refused to remain still, they kept folding, sliding, and griping onto each other. "I am not a clairvoyant by any definition. But I do get feelings that something's going to happen, and every time it does. This wasn't the first vision I've had, but it was by far the most intense." Paul didn't know what to say. It wasn't often that he was told that he was going to die. "So, you can't fly anymore." "But I have to fly, it's my job." "But you'll be killed the next time you fly." Emily said pleading desperately. "I just can't tell the Major that I can't fly because my girlfriend had a vision where I died in the end. He wouldn't care, he would send me out anyways. He would send his best friend out on a suicide mission if it would mean he would have a billionth of a chance better at winning a battle." Emily knew that he was right. She wallowed in despair in silence.  
  
"What the hell happened to the rest of those damned Core units?!" Emmanuel fumed. Following orders from high command he waited two minutes after the airstrike was completed to bring his forces in. But when he arrived, there was nothing. The canyon was absolutely deserted. The only company his forces had was the charred remains of the destroyed Core units. He estimated that eighty or so units were annihilated in the melee. But what about the remainder of the army, they certainly couldn't have gotten through the barriers of wreckage. It took him several minutes to blow through. The Core units seemed to have vanished into thin air. "What the living fuck is going on here?!" His forces were awaiting his orders. "Return to base." Emmanuel ordered. The column of tanks slowly turned around and left the canyon. Then Emmanuel felt his command vehicle jar up and down. He stood and thought, 'there wasn't any wreckage there.' He turned on the monitor that displayed what was behind the vehicle since it had no windows. There was a steam vent with the grating destroyed. "STOP THE COLUMN!" He shouted. That was were the Core units went through the steam vent. Core Prime's geothermal system was different than any other planet. The steam was carried through pipes that the Core constructed, meaning they could control where the steam would be released. And it would be no surprise that they might use them as an escape if they had to. "I believe this would be where, as you would say, when the plot thickens."  
  
The Arm base was completed ahead of schedule. The outpost was primarily designed for communications, but it also had a complete array of production facilities. It didn't have any energy or metal production, so all of its supplies came from the resource facility three hundred miles away. The production facilities were to make quick strike team, and reinforcements and send them into battle quickly. Since it was so close to Core territory, it was well defended. It would be a strategist's nightmare to make an attempt at seizing this base, since it was perched atop a mesa. The defense was like a wall of death, with lines of Ambusher popup heavy cannons, flak cannons, and Defender missile towers the base was literally impenetrable. The communications tower housed an advanced radar and automatic radar targeting system. Corporal Travis was one of the communications officers there. The radio waves were usually quiet, except when a battle was underway or when one was immanent. Sitting in his chair with his feet propped on his control panel, Travis was drifting between consciousness and sleep when the radio crackled to life. He quickly threw his legs of the control panel and locked onto the frequency. "This is Admiral Nills, found an unidentified Core scout ship. It is retreating, I am in pursuit." "Admiral Nills, what is your current position?" Corporal Travis asked. "Passing sector 643:84, entering 642:82." The voice on the other end of the line answered.  
  
The Neptune 85 was plowing through the oily water at top-flight speed, and it was still losing ground to the faster scout ship. The remainder of Admiral Nills fleet was lagging behind, but he didn't care. They would catch up eventually. Nills was in the control room, when the intercom began to spew words. The message was from the radar tower on board. "The radar just light up like a Christmas tree! The contacts are popping up all over sonar too! We just ran into a Core naval base!" The man from the radar room was hysterical. Nills was pleased to have found a Core naval base. Now he could show the power of the Arm fleet himself. The contacts were close enough now to see on visual. "Target those vessels and open fire!" Nills ordered. The cannons on the two Millenniums fired first. The shots split the air and made contact into the sides of a Core Enforcer. The destroyer's hull was punctured by one the shells and quickly began to go under. Reacting to the destruction of the destroyer, the Core base was alerted to the position of the Arm fleet and sent a volley of artillery of their own. The Neptune's cannon fired its first shot of the battle. The sound of the plasma ball being jettisoned out of the massive barrel was thunderous. The sound created a shockwave that caused the entire vessel to shudder. The plasma shell rocketed through the air. It made contact with an Executioner. The shell hit just off to the port side but inflicted serious damage. The vessel was thrown several feet. But the most devastating injury it suffered was a gapping hole in its hull below the water line, because the plasma detonated underwater and the incredible shockwave tore through the heavy armor like it was butter. The cruiser listed steeply to port and continued to go under. Admiral Nills looked over the situation. His five ships were getting one hell of a shelling. Sonar was only picking up surface targets so no subs were lurking beneath the water. The base was relatively small. Only three shipyards, one of them was a level two shipyard. The shoreline was empty, therefore the base was dependant on its naval forces for protection. Eight vessels were all that the base had for defense. Only eight ships to defend an entire outpost, Nills could not understand the logic behind this. One Searcher scout ship, the one that he had chased earlier, two Enforcers, one of them was already on the bottom of the sea, two Executioners, two Warlords, and one Shredder were the only defense this base had. Then the shelling became too much for one of the Millennium battleships Nills had in his fleet and it floundered. Again the Neptune's cannon fired. This time it struck a Warlord dead on. The Warlord exploded violently when its energy storage ruptured. The explosion threw water hundreds of feet into the air. The shockwave was devastating for the Core, helpful to the Arm fleet. Another Warlord adjacent to the first was tossed to the side, and when it came level with the water again, it had capsized. Torpedoes were cutting through the water pummeling the Core ships. Plasma fire was being exchanged. The Neptune's cannon fired a third time, the sound as loud as ever. The final Executioner was split in two by the heavy blow to its bow. Rendered useless, the ship sunk. An Arm Archer collapsed under the stress of the plasma volleys and sank rapidly. Two lucky shots from the Neptune's cannon destroyed the remaining Core resistance at the base. The Pike destroyed the shipyards afterwards.  
  
The Neptune's cannon was a new design. It hurled a super compressed spheroid of plasma at extremely high speeds with incredible accuracy. Because of the higher speeds of the shells, the Neptune could target objects at distances greater than the Big Bertha cannon. But all of these advancements came at a price, the cannon required a source of energy equal to that of four fusion reactors, but the double reactor on board was only enough to supply half the power needed to fire the shots. In this case the extra source was that of the resource facilities the Arm had created when it first landed on Core prime. The first few battles were hard fought and most ended in defeat. But the Arm was able to push the Core back with a few key victories in the Dariek Highlands. That was the turning point in the battle for Core Prime. In the valleys of the Dariek Highlands, the Arm constructed dozens of fusion reactors and hundreds of metal extractors. Now the Arm had all the resources it needed to shut the Core down. The Arm Gemini Capital Starship only gave the Arm more of an advantage. It easily wiped out the remaining Core spaceships. Now the Arm commanded the space around Core Prime. The war could have been over then but the Gemini suffered some damage to its power regulators and it could not charge the positron cannon to its full potential. The positron cannon was the ultimate weapon of destruction. It could incinerate an entire planets surface with a single shot, but now it could only be charged up to five percent, no where near enough to take out Core Prime, so the Arm prepared for the ground war. The Core was dying, the Arm had pinned them into a small area. But the Core still possessed a trump card, the Krogoth. The Core kept their giant robots hidden from the Arm, because they knew the Arm would simply fire the positron cannon at them if they detected a Krogoth. Krogoth's were very easy to spot from space, because they gave off a large amount of magnetic resonance, much more than a column of fifty Goliath super heavy tanks. The Core was allowing the Arm to take them to what would seem to be a final battle for the Arm, then they would put everything they had into defending the Core Consciousness, and if they were successful they would shatter the Arm morale, and push them back all the way to Empyreon. There they would finish the Arm. The Arm production plants in the Ræti Flats have been literally spewing units for several days in preparation for the final assault, code named "Iron Fist." The plan was simple, drive the Core into a defensive position at the Core Consciousness and attempt to wipe as much of the base out with the cannon fire provided by the Neptune 85. But the closest the Neptune could get would only be able to reach a small portion of the base it would be obsolete quickly. Then the Gemini would fire the positron cannon into the area and hope to take the Core Commander with it. Since the power regulators on the Gemini were damaged, the cooling chamber for the positron cannon was malfunctioning. Subsequently, the Gemini could only fire a single shot every nine hours, so the shot would have to be a well placed one. Next, the air forces will attempt to knock out the emplacements along the west walls of the Core Consciousness. This would be the most dangerous mission any of the pilots would ever fly. The west wall was lined with flak cannons and anti-air missile launchers. Once the west wall defensive structures were destroyed, a distraction attack will come from the north side into the open hole. The intent is so that the Core would move all of its attacking units to defend that area, then another attack from the southern end of the west wall will plunge into the softened Core base and annihilate the outpost from the inside out. The defenses along the other sides would have no energy supplies to draw from, and for those structures that didn't require an outside power source, those would be handled by extremely high altitude bombing runs, from specially designed Apollo fighters reformatted to carry bomb payloads instead of missiles. Once the Core contamination was wiped out, the closest surviving commander will destroy the Core Consciousness. On the east and north walls, two armies will protect the flanks of the other forces assaulting the west wall. This is so that the Core cannot slip a division around and strike from behind. At the base in the Ræti flats, the Arm strategists are making the final decisions on the final assault and the attacks that will push the Core back the defensive around the Core Consciousness. Standing around a map of the area surrounding the Core Consciousness, five men discussed the fine details of the crucial attacks necessary to achieve their goal. "The airbase will require some amount of time to fabricate the number of aircraft this strike will require." The Major General commented. "With the plants they have at the airbase, it will demand three days of non- stop nanolathing to manifest that many aircraft." The Brigadier General said. "If they begin by noon tomorrow, the construction will be complete in time." The General assured the two men that they had enough time. "With that question out of the way, what type of aircraft will be needed?" The Commodore inquired. He was the highest-ranking officer in the Arm personal, also the oldest in the Arm military. "There are a dozen, maybe more, flak cannons on that ridge. If we send Brawlers in, they will get torn to hell. I think we should send in forty or so Phoenix bombers and our Apollo fighters." Said the Colonel, the lowest ranked officer present. "I believe you are correct about the Brawlers, they would prove to be ineffective. The Phoenix's would have to make their bombing runs running parallel with the wall for a moment or two, then they would pull out away from the Core base, and go for another strike. But I don't think the Apollo fighters will be enough, I think fifteen Hawks should be teamed with them." The Major General argued. "The Apollo is a deadly machine even by itself, the fact that a mere fifteen Hawks being added to its numbers would be overkill." "We don't want to take any chances, we don't want those air forces out matched and not have a chance to blow that west wall out then the Core would be too well fortified in its position. To complicate this matter, the Core construction units there would only reinforce the defensive perimeters to a greater extent. Then the fortress may be impenetrable and the Core would go on the offensive." "The Major General is right, we don't want to be left short handed. The Hawks will accompany the Apollo fighters on their attack into the west wall. Next, I believe is how long we should wait once the Neptune has begun firing to attack the west wall?" The Commodore ended the heating discussion. "It is imperative that we attack as quickly as possible and not give the Core a chance to counter. The window of attack the Neptune should be allotted should only be five minutes." The General advised. "But with only five minutes to attack, the Neptune will only be able to release twenty-five shells. That is nearly not enough time to eliminate the necessary installations the Neptune needs to remove. The Neptune should at least be given eight minutes to remove those buildings." The Brigadier General said. "If we give them any longer than five minutes the Core will be alerted to our presence, and given time to reinforce their defensive position." "The positron cannon will take care of that contingency. It will be fired into a key point in the Core base so it will remove several important structures inside the confides of the base. The Core would be too busy replacing those and would not have a chance to augment their defenses." "Five minutes is all we can spare, if the positron cannon fires or not. What should the armies consist of?" The Commodore said. "The individual Commanders should be given the ability to select their forces." The Colonel said. "You must be crazy! With an assault of this caliber! Most of the Commanders use artillery and in this case, the armies on the north and east walls would need a mixture of unit classes." The Major General argued. "But if the Commander are assigned units they are not familiar with, they may use them improperly." "Enough, the units selection will be made here. It will not fall to the individual Commanders." The Commodore stopped the argument. "Since the main bulk of the attack will be centralized around the northern end of the west wall, the army on the north wall should be given high accuracy units and very little artillery as to cut down on friendly fire." The Major General said. "Agreed. To inflict a maximum amount of damage, the north army should be given several Penetrators combined with about thirty or so Fidos." The Brigadier General said. "The East army may have to fend off airstrikes so they should be assigned Samsons to defend against this possibility. Also, Panther tanks should be given too to defend against a ground based retreat." The Colonel said. "But that would leave them vulnerable to longer range attacks, Bulldogs should be placed into the mix as well." "Very well. The distraction attack should be consisted of heavy armored units. What do you think?" The Commodore said assertively. "Then it should be Bulldogs and Zeuses. As those units can take a great deal of punishment." "If the distraction attack is to be made of heavy units, that would mean that the main assault should be higher velocity units." The General said. "Panther tanks and Fidos would be the best units for the attack." The Brigadier General said. "We have the units selected, now we need to decide on the numbers." The Commodore said. "For the north army, I would recommend twelve Penetrators and thirty Fidos." "Yes, and for the east army, twenty Samsons, twenty-five Panthers, and fifteen Bulldogs." The Major General suggested. "Agreed. The distraction army would need to be large enough to appear as a main attack, so twenty-five of each type of unit there would suffice." "The main assault should be the largest. Thirty-five Fidos and forty Panther tanks." "The airfield will be producing units the entire time, we'll just use whatever they have finished." The men contemplated the approach each army will take.  
  
"The Arm forces are pushing us closer to the Core Consciousness." "That is intended. We are drawing them closer to increase their foolish hopes. And once they reach the Consciousness, we will unleash the Krogoths. We will defeat them there. That defeat will be a crushing one since they were so close and they could not close it out. Their morale will be crushed, and we will annihilate their forces here, and push them all the way back to Empyreon. We will rid this galaxy of their pestilence once and for all." "And what of the Gemini? With that starship in orbit, they could kill us with a single shot. Even though the positron cannon cannot fire at full power, they will be able to fix it in approximately three days. Once that is repaired the Arm would simply evacuate the planet and blast the planet with that cannon." "A satellite that was missed will run a kamikaze attack into the cannon and knock it out of commission permanently." "You are so sure of our victory." "Because nothing can get close to the Consciousness. It is too well defended."  
  
With victory after victory, the Arm forces pushed the Core ever closer to the Consciousness. The victories seemed easier than normal, which told the strategists that the Core was letting them win, in hope of repelling them in the final battle. Since everything depended heavily upon the removal of the west wall by the airstrikes, no aircraft were permitted to attack in the battles preceding the battle at the Core Consciousness.  
  
Emily was a worried wreck for the days before the final assault, but she didn't let it show. She knew that Paul would die in the battle. She had to think of a way to stop it from happening. She couldn't get him to stay behind during the battle but she might be able to get him to be pulled out of the battle. She might be able to hack his fighter's computer so that it wouldn't be able to reach full speed and he would be ineffective and have to turn back. But she dismissed that idea because if she did any part of the hacking incorrect his engine would cut out and he would plummet to the ground. She couldn't think of anything that would cause him to turn back and not have any potentially deadly side effects. Although she could not think of a plan to remove Paul from the battle, she did have a backup plan. There was a lake about one thousand yards southwest from the west wall. If she could not construct a plan before the battle began, she would stay close to Paul during the attacks, and when the time came, she would use her Apollo fighter as a shield for his. Hopefully, the missiles intended for Paul would hit her in the fuselage. Once she performed that, she would ditch her crippled jet into the lake.  
  
Emmanuel still could not figure out why the Core units sought shelter in the geothermal heat ducts earlier. The temperature of the steam beneath the surface would destroy a unit quickly. The Core units that went down there must have thought it would be an easier death than dying at his hands. That thought made Emmanuel proud. With his victory at the Jor`lu plateau, he had been promoted to Commander. And to make the surprise even more golden, he would be supplied with a commander suit and had been selected to lead the north army in the final battle. Jovial thoughts ran through his mind. Maybe he would be the one to destroy the Core Consciousness. But the most powerful thought he kept thinking of was maybe the war would finally be over. He was assigned Penetrators and Fidos. He was told that he would not be making an attack of any kind. He was to keep the Core from escaping and use the Penetrators to blow a path for the main attack to follow. He hated his assignment but he would follow his orders to the letter.  
  
Iron Fist 15 hours 40 minutes remaining.  
  
"There are masses of Arm forces gathering. I believe they are preparing to attack." "They shouldn't be prepared this quickly. They must be testing our nerve. They want us to crack."  
  
Emily lay on the bed face down with Paul straddling her back massaging her shoulders. This might be the last time she would have a chance to make love with him, and she wanted it to last forever. "I love you so much." Paul said. "I could think of nothing better to do than to spend the rest of my life with you." Paul stopped massaging her shoulders and sat on the bed next to Emily. Emily elevated herself too. "If we survive this and get home." Paul stopped talking and seemed to stare off into space. Emily repositioned herself so she can look at him in the eyes. "What, if we get home, what?" Paul swallowed a lump in his throat. "Will you marry me?" Before Emily could think of what to say, she found herself saying. "Yes, yes. Oh, yes." They embraced in mutual rapture. Emily was not sure if it was Paul or she began first, but before she realized it, he and she were nude. It was like someone had unleashed the animal in each of them. Once wasn't enough, over and over they pleasured each other, only stopping for a few moments to catch their breaths.  
  
Iron Fist, 9 hours 20 minutes remaining.  
  
Commander Seth was to lead the distraction assault. The second the west wall was down, he would send his forces into the base on the southern end of the wall. This was his first command. He was second in command when his superior was killed in action. He was deathly nervous about his mission. Distraction missions usually ended up as suicide attacks. There was a good chance that he would die, and it had him scared shitless. Commander Hess as the most experienced commander was assigned the main thrust into the Core base. It was the most demanding and strategically difficult assault that would take place. Rightfully it was given to him. The man that would protect the far side from Core escapes and flanking maneuvers would be Commander Cox. He was the most defensively apt Commander the Arm had available.  
  
Emily fell asleep in Paul's strong arms. In the middle of the night Emily stirred and broke from the grip of sleep. Paul had rolled over and now his back faced her. Night is the time with the bustle of the day silenced and your thoughts seem to drift through a daze. At first Emily had joyous thoughts. Her engagement to Paul, the possibility that the war may be over tomorrow drifted through her sleepy mind. But after sometime the thoughts turned black. The blunt realization that she may lose Paul tomorrow shattered her peaceful solitude. She became restless, she couldn't find a comfortable position to fall asleep in, even if she could, she doubted that she could fall asleep again, but she needed to. She needed to be alert for what she needed to be alert for tomorrow. She stood and began to pace around the room. The white walls seemed a desolate gray in the dim light of the night. The ceiling appeared low, so low that she thought her head would hit it if she stood on her toes. She found her way to the refrigerator. She opened the door and extracted a bottle of whiskey that Paul kept there. She grabbed a glass and poured herself some. She didn't care what it was, the alcohol would help her sleep. She quickly drank the contents of the glass. It had a strong taste and it burned her throat. Emily put down the glass and her face cringed from the after-taste. She replaced the bottle, shut the door, and made her way back to the bed. She crawled into it and several minutes later after the alcohol dulled her mind and senses she drifted off into sleep.  
  
Iron Fist, 2 hours remaining.  
  
The four armies were in position for the order to converge. The pilots were studying their attack runs and who they were to cover and who was covering them. Emily was to attack along the fifth block of the west wall. Her targets were three Punishers, one Gaat Gun, and three Pulverizers. That was quite a large number of targets to remove for only a single fighter. She was to cover two Phoenix bombers and fly point for Paul. Thank God. She would be close enough to maybe have a chance to protect him. Her cover was coming from Major Ulysses and Corporal Stern. She figured about how long they would be under fire. If she would have to take out all of her targets and then wait for the others to remove theirs, they would be under attack for nine minutes. Fifty Phoenix bombers, twelve Apollo fighters, and twenty Hawk stealth fighters were in the armada that was to attack the west wall. It was estimated that only fifteen would survive. That was a startling statistic. Emily had difficulty gathering the courage to look at Paul. He was busy with the ground crew in equipping his fighter, sometimes he would wave at her but she always played it off like she didn't see him.  
  
In space the satellite was burning its energy reserves and gaining speed. Occasionally it would change course a few degrees to keep on target. The Gemini was navigating into position to fire the positron cannon. When it felt a shudder. "Captain! The positron cannon just went offline! It must have gotten hit by a meteor!" "GET THAT THING FIXED! It needs to be operational before the attack commences."  
  
BOOM!! The Neptune fired its cannon. The attack for the future of the entire galaxy was underway.  
  
The Krogoths were detected in the middle of the base, waiting for the ground attack to begin. The Core Commander was guarding the Consciousness. He would be the last line of defense against the attack. He was told to use his d-gun even if it meant that he would kill one of his own men. Nothing was to get past him.  
  
The intercom in every Arm unit and the loud speakers crackled to life, the Commodore was to give an inspirational speech. "Fellow members of the Arm Alliance, you are about to take part in the greatest battle of all time. Unlike our distant ancestors, we are not fighting for territory, or freedom from a king, or money. We are fighting for humanity, we are fighting for are right to live as human beings. For thousands of years, we have struggled to defeat the monster that is the Core. We cannot let up now, the chalice of freedom is within our grasp. But a war cannot be fought by one soldier, not even one division, it is fought by a joint effort of every soldier on that battlefield. If each of you gives it your all we will be victorious." The Commodore paused for a moment. "I would like to take a moment to recognize the countless souls that were lost to the Core. Literally billions of lives were claimed in this war and each and every soul that was taken away should be avenged. The Neptune has begun firing onto the Core base. In five minutes our attack will begin. You now your part in this day, some bigger than others but in the eyes of the people back home, you are all heroes. Seize the day and the day will be yours forever." The communication died.  
  
"Three minutes to take off, pilots enter your aircraft." The pilots quickly entered their respective craft and prepared for liftoff. Paul hustled over to Emily. Emily realized he wanted to say goodbye, because this may be the last time they would speak face to face. He took her into his arms and held her tightly. She squeezed back. She didn't want to let him go. "I love you." Paul said. "I never want to let you go." A small tear formed in the corner of her eye. A pilot stopped beside them. "Come on, we're taking off in two minutes." They reluctantly separated, and quickly Paul ran over to his airplane.  
  
The shelling the Neptune was giving devastated that section of the Core base. The southern section, which was flush against a high mountainside, was almost wiped out. The cannon's barrel was starting to overheat from the continuous shelling.  
  
"Positron cannon still not operational." There was a hint of frustration and worry in the engineers voice as he informed the Captain of the bad news. "We just lost, the damage that cannon would have inflicted was our only hope at loosing their defensive stronghold."  
  
It was a sight to behold, graceful and deadly at the same time. The fleet of aircraft was immense, they flew at the Phoenix's top speed but when they reached the target, they would all accelerate to their respective top speeds.  
  
The Commodore was informed of the positron cannon. "We have to fall back." "It's too late. They're already there." The Major General said.  
  
"Here we go!" Major Ulysses said as the flock of aircraft came within range of the defenses of the west wall. Dozens of anti-air missiles and flak shells were hurled towards the attacking aircraft. A few of the aircraft were destroyed right there, and a few of them were damaged. The onslaught of destruction lasted only a few seconds and all of the structures had to reload. That was when the Arm inflicted damage of their own. The Apollo's were the first to strike, the fury of missile fire was so dense that it appeared to be a thick fog rapidly rolling in. But this fog had explosive tips. The Apollo's veered away so as to not fly over the Core base, because if they did, death would be waiting about half way over. The missiles tore into the defensive emplacements. They were followed quickly by Hawk missiles, and then by the mainstay of the attack, the Phoenix's bombs ripped holes into the wall. The aircraft all veered away and swung around for another pass. The exchange of death was repeated again, then it would be repeated again, and again until one of the forces was destroyed.  
  
Emily had survived the first two strikes because she did not fly lead neither did Paul. However, on the third pass Paul was in chain to lead. He came in for his assault. Emily accelerated, to time her move she would have to make, to protect Paul. The missiles and flak came, Paul shot up in altitude to avoid the projectiles. Emily followed close behind. On her detection system she saw two missiles rocketing. She moved towards Paul to block the shots, that was when she realized that it wasn't Paul's aircraft that was hit it was hers. She merely saw his reaction in her vision. She saw her own demise. With a will to live stronger than steel, she swung her Apollo towards the lake, then jetted into a steep climb. BOOM! The missiles struck her engine and left wing. She pushed the craft's nose down slightly. Rapidly, she began to lose altitude. Two thousand feet. The craft was difficult to maneuver with the left ailerons crippled. Twelve hundred feet. Struggling to line keep the nose up she almost nails a cliff. Nine hundred feet. She didn't think that she had enough velocity to make the lake. Two hundred feet. It would be close. Fifty feet. Emily shut her eyes, sat on her hands, and braced herself for impact. Which is what they taught her in training. She never thought she'd have to use it.  
  
Emily shook her aching head, there was a shooting pain in her temple. She must have hit her head when she crashed. She turned on the exterior cameras. Black. She only saw black. She was under water. She had landed in the lake. But how deep was it. She pulled on her oxygen mask and jettisoned the cockpit. With a muffled whoosh her seat was launched twenty feet up. Quickly she unbuckled herself and began to swim to the surface. Her mask could give her one maybe two minutes of oxygen, so she would have to reach the surface fast. She swam for what seemed like an eternity. It seemed like she wasn't going anywhere, because all she saw was black. She breathed the last of the life-giving oxygen from the mask. She swam faster. Near panic now, she thought she would asphyxiate. Her lungs began to burn. She needed a breath of fresh air soon. Darkness began to surround her vision. She was becoming disoriented. This is the end she thought to herself. Just then she broke the surface and drew in a gulp of fresh air. Immediately, the darkness faded from her vision, and her lungs were cooled.  
  
She was ninety yards from the shore. She began to make her way across it.  
  
In the distance she could hear the battle raging on. She was pulling herself to the shore when she felt a powerful earthquake. She would have been thrown back into the water if she hadn't of fell to her knees and crawled away from the shore. Grateful to be alive she thanked God or whoever the creator is. Then silence fell over her, no battle raging in the background, no engine roar, she only heard the rhythmic splash of the lake and her own breathing.  
  
The aerial assault was complete. Paul landed back at the airbase with a partially damaged wing from flak shells. He couldn't find the will to pull himself out of the cockpit. Emily was gone, everything he had lived for during the past few months was gone.  
  
"What was that huge explosion from?" Commander Hess asked. The explosion was huge. It sent seismic vibrations several miles. "We just received the report." One of his men said over the intercom. He began to read from the report. "Commander Cox had used his cloaking device to slip into the Core base. Once he got in, he searched for the Core Commander. He didn't find him, but when he was destroyed by enemy fire, his explosion ripped a huge chunk out of the Core base." "It wouldn't be as big as the one the positron cannon would be, but it would do roughly the same damage. We are back in this battle."  
  
"The Arm has obliterated the west wall!" "Reposition the mobile forces to react to an invasion. I don't want a single Arm unit to enter this base." "Intimidator cannons and all Krogoth's have been destroyed by a Commander explosion." "Shit, Begin replacing them."  
  
Commander Seth ordered his forces to move out when he saw the remainder of the aircraft fly overhead. Nobody spoke within the ranks of his army. There was a solemn atmosphere hanging over them. It was as if they were walking into the fiery pits of hell, towards eternal damnation.  
  
Commander Emmanuel ordered that the Penetrators begin to plow a path through which the main attack would follow. The blue lasers ripped gaping holes in the bases infrastructure. Solar collectors, metal extractors, production plants of various types, and dozens of units were being blown out of the way. The explosions seemed to blend together. It was like watching magma boil over itself and occasionally fire would spit up like from a dragons mouth. Metal fragments were flying over the sea of fire the Penetrators were creating. Emmanuel knew at one times the thoughts that controlled the units being destroyed below were once living beings, yet no screams of pain were issued from the exploding units below. All that he heard was the lasers firing from the Penetrators and the detonating units below.  
  
"A large force is approaching the southern end of the west wall!" "Scramble everything we got at it. I don't want a single unit to enter this base."  
  
Commander Seth's forces hit the west wall with their guns firing. The distraction worked. A horde of Core units was migrating to their position.  
  
His body turned cold. "Take out everything you can!" He ordered. His forces began to drop.  
  
Timing was the key to Hess's attack. If he went in too early, the Core forces would still be reacting to the distraction. If he went too late, the Core forces would finish off the distraction attack and converge on him. Waiting for the right moment, when the path would be most clear. NOW! He gave the order to move in. The radar jammers that they were hidden by would not go into battle with them. To the Core it would appear as if they had just manifested from the air.  
  
"There is a huge attack force appearing on radar! They set us up!" "If we move everything we have away from the first force, that one will move in and threaten the base. If we ignore the new attack, it will wipe out the base. If we spread our remaining forces across the two attacks, enough will remain from each one to threaten the base. Evacuation is not an option. Spread the forces over the two."  
  
Many of the units began to move towards the northern end of the west wall. Seth saw his chance. "Move in." He ordered. The remaining forces under his command surged forward. The Bulldogs plowed through the weakening Core resistance. The heavy plasma cannon they sported wrecked havoc on the smaller Core k-bots. Storms, Thuds, and Crashers began to fall to the superior firepower of Seth's forces.  
  
A relatively small resistance met Hess's larger army. He ordered his men to attack. His massive force mowed through the Core units like a heated knife through melted butter. He only suffered three casualties.  
  
Back at the airbase, Paul mustered the will to pull himself from the Apollo. Unable to speak he was congratulated on his safe return by the ground crews. They slapped his back, gave him thumbs up signs, and shook his unwilling hand, but he could give no response. He sat on a few empty ammunition crates and his head fell into his hands. He lost everything.  
  
The airbase was only four minutes away by flying, but walking there was a different story. It would take her hours to walk the entire distance. But the battlefield was only a few minutes away on foot. She could make it before the battle ended and everybody went home. She was slowed by her wet flight suit so she removed them. She wore a pair of flame retardant shorts and a short-sleeved shirt of the same. She tore her left sleeve and used it as a make shift hair tie and used it to hold her soaked hair form falling in her face. The terrain would be easy, flat steel. Thank the Core for that much at least. She would make good time across it, until she came to the battlefield. The only entrance was along the west wall. She would have to try there.  
  
The Core base was falling to its knees at the hands of the Arm. Hess's army ripped the structures on the north half of the base apart. While Seth led his remaining force on a search and destroy mission to clean up whatever Core units were hiding in the nooks and crannies of the rises and hills. As they rounded a corner to check behind it, the distinct sound of a d-gun firing rang through the air. It tore through several Zeuses and Bulldogs. The others began to converge around the hidden Commander. Seth knew that if he was caught in that explosion he would destroy a massive part of his force and maybe hit one of the other Commanders in the area and cause a huge deadly chain reaction. As quickly as he could, Seth ran the other way. Time seemed to traverse in slow motion. He heard the Commander detonate. He felt the shockwave and heard tortured metal screech. When it was over he was still intact. He was far enough away to survive the huge explosion.  
  
Emily seemed to walk forever. Another tremor shook the ground and she lost her footing. A pillar of fire shot above the top of a mountain she was walking under and it mushroomed. That was a Commander explosion, she thought. She was at the battlefield at last. She began to walk west towards the absent west wall. Friendly units were still here; she would be spotted and saved. She turned a corner and a Bulldog was stationed fifty yards away. It seemed to be looking for something. Just then a Crasher stepped from around the corner and looked straight at her. She froze for a second. As soon as her feet left the ground, she heard the Bulldog open fire. The Crasher blew apart, and she dove for cover. But she wasn't fast enough, a big piece of metal tore into her right thigh. The impact flung her one hundred eighty degrees around and hard into the ground. Pain shot from the wound. At first she tried to pull the hunk of metal out, but she thought that it could have hit an artery and if she pulled it out, she would bleed to death. She left it in. She attempted to stand but the fiery pain in her leg inhibited her action.  
  
Talking to herself, "Get up! Help is around that corner." She slowly crawled to the opening.  
  
"Hey Chuck, did you see that the Crasher we just blew to hell was facing away from us?" "Yeah. Was it looking at somethin'?" "Let's go check it out" The Bulldog surged forward, then reached the corner. "There's nothing here." "Wait. Back the camera up, now down." The screen showed a female pilot that must have ejected during the air raid. And by the looks of it, she was injured. "She needs help. Call the airbase. Tell 'em we found one of their pilots."  
  
The pain in Emily's leg was intolerable. She kept slipping in and out of consciousness. Blackness. Two men came were standing over her. She only heard parts of what they were saying between the surges of blindingly numb pain. ".has a pulse.shrapnel in thigh." One of the men said into a communicator. Blackness. She was inside a vehicle and moving. Her leg was propped up on a box and braced with something she could not quite see. The ride was a little jerky, far more bouncy than the smooth flight of an airplane. Blackness. She was being moved out of the vehicle. She was placed in a stretcher. The pain no longer surged while she was conscious, but she could not feel her legs. Blackness. Lying on an operation table several people were standing around her. She couldn't move. One of the people pointed to her and said something that she could not understand. A needle was inserted into her lower arm and something injected. She quickly fell asleep. Blackness. Now she was in a room, there were heavy bandages around her leg. It was difficult to move it. But she could sit up. A man in white clothes was standing next to her. "You're finally awake. Do you feel any pain?" He was holding something, prepared to record her answer. At first she was confused, then she realized that this man was a doctor. She shook her head. "Can you talk?" "Yes." She said with more strength than she thought she had. "Do you know your name and rank?" "Private Emily Henson." Then a wave of urgency flashed through her. Paul thought that she was dead when she was laying here wasting time with this doctor. "Do you remember how you crashed?" "We're wasting time." She said as she pulled herself from the bed. "Hey, sit back down" the doctor said as he stood up and tried to force her back down. "Do I have any serious injuries that need your attention?" She said while she pushed the doctor out of her way. "No. But I need to finish this paperwork before you can leave." She got to her feet. Her leg was a quite sore, but it wasn't enough to hinder walking. She hated modern medicine it didn't do enough. With what the machines they had, doctors should be able to operate and cause no pain afterwards like what she was feeling now. With only a slight limp she pushed the doctor away and made her way to the door. "But I have to finish this paperwork." The doctor was something of a wimp.  
  
"Shove your paperwork up your ass." Emily said crudely. She left the room and knew where she was, the hospital at the airbase. Making her way to the exit, the doctor came up behind her. "Nobody's here. They all went to the battlefield to watch the ceremony." "What ceremony?" "The Commander is going to destroy the Core Consciousness." "What?!" She was shocked. "We won?!" "Yes. Exciting isn't it?!" Not only was he a wimp he was almost a robot. Then she remembered, the medical personal were replaced with cybernetic robots several years ago. Or at least that's what they said on the news. And as she looked at this doctor, she realized that it must be true. She felt lighter. It's over, it's finally over. She was lost in jubilation. Then she remembered Paul. She ran as fast as she could towards the exit without causing her too much pain. She had to get to the battlefield. Ironic that she made her way to the battlefield and now she has to get back there. She ran limping through the door and into the open area outside. She needed to get an aircraft.  
  
Paul did not go to the ceremony, because they would be celebrating, and for him it was no time for celebration. He had sulked around the empty hangers for several hours. He could not feel anything, only emptiness inside. Walking out of the hanger with his head hung low he heard a familiar voice.  
  
Emily saw Paul leave the hanger and she almost exploded with joy. She shouted his name. He froze and looked up at her. She ran faster than she thought, ignoring the dull pulsing pain in her leg. She covered the distance between them quickly and jumped into his arms. Kissing and hugging, they carried a rapid conversation. "I thought I'd lost you." Paul said. "I should've never let you go."  
  
As the celebrations carried deep into the night, Emily and Paul had a celebration of their own. After the war, the Arm military was nearly dissipated by the huge number of retirements and people that just wanted out. But it still lived on.  
  
Commander Hess was left the army after the Battle of Cocytus. He now lives on Empyreon in the capital city of Elysium. Commander Cox was awarded the Medal of Honor for his selfless act in the Battle of Cocytus. The Commodore remained with the Arm military but died of a heart attack, he was eighty-three years old. Major Ulysses was one of three pilots of the original nine that survived the Battle of Cocytus. After the battle he went home and suffered from depression that arose from the great loss of life he witnessed. Commander Emmanuel was selected as the Commander to destroy the Core Consciousness. It was the proudest moment of his life. He moved to Thalassean and married. He had two children. Admiral Nills remained with the Arm navy for eight years after the war, when he died of a massive stroke at the age of seventy-nine. Emily and Paul were married on Empyreon two months after the war. Seven months later they had their first of two children, Helen and three years later Chris. Now they live on Deneb, a planet similar to Empyreon but without the battle scars.  
  
As the past has showed us, life can arise from destruction. Now, the children of the Arm civilization can grow old untainted from war. 


End file.
